


Broom Thighs (BHTHK Chapter 18 Deleted Scene)

by Musyc



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cunnilingus, Deleted Scenes, Draco Malfoy Has a Large Cock, F/M, Inspired by Fanart, Quidditch, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:55:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29347734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musyc/pseuds/Musyc
Summary: After their lunch date, Draco takes Hermione flying.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 23
Kudos: 365





	Broom Thighs (BHTHK Chapter 18 Deleted Scene)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jaxxinabox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaxxinabox/gifts), [mignonettes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mignonettes/gifts).



> For Jaxx and for mignonettes, and their _gorgeous_ Draco arts for BHTHK.  
> And for all of my BHTHK readers, the promised smutty treat in lieu of a chapter. ♥ ♥

Before their lunch date ended, Hermione was blushing furiously and avoiding Draco's eyes as she admitted exactly why she'd run away from the Quidditch pitch that day three years before. "God," she muttered, slumping back in the booth and burying her face in her hands. "And you didn't even have most of your tattoos, then. I swear, Draco, if you had turned around and I had seen your back, I might have tackled you and we would have started our relationship much, much sooner."

"Can't say I would have objected," Draco said. She felt his arm slide around her shoulders, the bench creaking as he leaned close to whisper to her. "You know. I happen to know the Ministry's pitch is going unused today. If you wanted a second chance."

Hermione peeked through her fingers. She met his eyes, looked away, and looked back, her heart starting to pound. Draco pulled one of her hands down and bent to kiss her, fingers sliding into her hair. Hermione took a tight grip on the lapel of his suit jacket, whimpering softly as his tongue swept across hers. She felt dizzy when he released her. "I, um. I don't know, Draco."

"Come on. I'll take you up for a flight."

She bit her lip. She remembered watching him at the match against International, wondering what it would feel like to fly with him, his solid thighs pressed to her legs and his large hand spread across her stomach. And once she was picturing him in the tight breeches and leather shinguards of his Quidditch uniform, she couldn't stop. She sagged against him. "I'm starting to understand why Pansy only dated Qudditch players," she muttered, thumping her head on his chest. "Who can resist?"

Draco laughed. "I'll confess, that's part of the reason I like to play."

They left the cafe and headed for the Ministry, taking the lift to level seven. Draco tugged Hermione down the hall past Games and Sports, then up a flight of stairs. "I'll just grab my broom and we can go out," he said.

Hermione made a face behind him. She didn't know if he sensed it, but he stopped at the top of the stairs to look at her. "What?"

"I was hoping you'd put on your uniform," she said after a moment. "Was kind of looking forward to it."

He gave her a long look, then an even longer smile. "Never let it be said I would disappoint my girlfriend in this matter." He opened a door and gestured her in.

They stepped into a large brightly-lit room. Several doors, two for each of the Ministry's departments, faced them. Draco pointed to a well-used sofa on the far side of the room. "Won't be long," he said. "Wait there and then we'll Apparate to the pitch. Nothing to read but sport mags, unfortunately."

She glanced at the sofa, then to the door labeled _MLE - MEN_. "We're alone, right?" 

Draco followed her gaze and gave her a slow, teasing grin. "Miss Granger," he said in a falsely scandalized tone. "Are you insinuating that you intend to join me in the locker room?"

"I am insinuating nothing," she said primly. She flashed him a wide smile and bumped the door open with her hip. "I'm stating outright."

Laughing, Draco stepped past her and did a quick sweep of the locker room. "Empty," he said, returning to the door. He locked it behind her, never taking his eyes off hers.

Hermione shivered, reached up, and undid the knot in his tie, leaving it to dangle around his neck. She followed him past several benches and a series of alcoves to stop in front of the one bearing his name. 

His Quidditch uniform was waiting there, along with his equipment bag and his broom, behind a shimmering protective field. Draco released the field, then took off his suit jacket and put it on a wooden hanger, draping his tie over the shoulder.

Hermione kicked off her shoes and climbed up on the bench, leaving her face to face with him when he turned around. She enjoyed his surprised blink a little more than she thought she should and had to stifle a giggle as she slung her arms around his neck. "This is nice," she said. "I can see why you like being so tall."

He stroked the backs of her legs and kissed her. "Just don't get light-headed from being up that high," he murmured as he dragged kisses down the slope of her neck.

It wasn't the height that made her head spin. It was the way Draco held her steady and nuzzled along the neckline of her shirt, his breath hot even through the heavy cotton. He tugged it down and flicked his tongue against her skin, licking the top of her curse scar. Hermione clutched his shoulders and fought off a moan. "I, um. I thought you were going to change?"

Draco lifted his head to kiss her again. "Right," he said against her mouth. "Change."

She could feel the shifts of his body, knew that he was unfastening his wand harness. She heard the leather and buckles of the harness hit the floor, then his hands moved between them as he undid his belt. 

Hermione deepened the kiss and groped at his shirt buttons, yanking them apart to shove the fabric off his shoulders. She swayed on the bench and snapped her eyes open, clinging to Draco to keep from falling. When she glanced down, his shirt was hanging from his unfastened trousers, leaving him bare from the waist up. She indulged herself in exploring the scars on his chest, then dragged her fingers lower, feeling his muscles tense as she trailed over his abs and down to circle his navel. 

Slipping her hand under the front of his trousers, she gently brushed his cock. Draco grunted, his lashes fluttering, and Hermione traced one finger along the length of him. "In case I've never mentioned it," she whispered to him, "I do very much enjoy that there is nothing under your clothes but you and your tattoos."

Before he could respond, she went to her knees on the bench and shoved his trousers lower. She kissed his stomach, tongue following the long, large scar to his hip. He twitched, exhaling sharply, and set one hand on her shoulder. Hermione pecked kisses across his abdomen from hip to hip, deliberately forming a slight arch to avoid his groin and the tight pale curls surrounding his cock.

She hid a smile at the disgruntled sound he made. Setting her hands on his waist, she looked up to him. "You promised me a flight," she said.

"Wicked witch." Draco stared down at her, his eyes dark. He wet his lips and took a deep breath, then turned and dropped onto the bench beside her to pull off his boots.

Hermione went to the alcove as Draco stripped. She took his jersey off the shelf and bundled it into her arms. When Draco held his hand out to her, she shook her head, holding the jersey tight. "Not this," she said with a slow smile. "This is mine."

Scurrying into the next aisle, she shouted "Change!" and Draco's laugh echoed off the tiles. Hermione stifled a giggle as an idea struck her. She wriggled out of her own clothes and pulled Draco's jersey over her head. The neckline dangled loose off one shoulder. The hemline reached her knees and the sleeves dangled past her hands. She rolled them to her wrists but left it loose otherwise.

She folded her clothes neatly, bra and knickers perched on top, and carried the stack back to Draco's alcove. He was concentrating on the buckles of his shin guards and didn't notice her at first, then he looked up and his jaw dropped open. 

Hermione set her clothes on a shelf in the alcove. She did a little spin for him. 

Draco rubbed his mouth, looking her up and down. "Hermione," he said, his voice dropping into that growl she loved. "That is the sexiest thing I've ever seen you wear."

Heat rushed through her from the dark look in his eyes. She had to fight off the temptation to drop to her knees between his feet and she couldn't seem to make her throat work enough to respond. She nodded frantically.

Draco stood, his fingers dropping to the laces of his Quidditch breeches. He kept his eyes on her as he tied the leather thongs closed. 

She kept her eyes on his hands. The white breeches were tight in normal circumstances. With the beginnings of his erection, they were even tighter, the fabric taut on his hips. As he moved, his thighs stretched the breeches and she was certain the seams were close to bursting.

When she heard Draco's soft chuckle, she realized she'd moaned. Her cheeks turned hot, but she didn't look away. His tailor might put charms on his clothes, but they seemed to have failed on his Quidditch breeches. There was no hiding his size. 

She was ridiculously grateful for that.

He moved closer, backing her up until her shoulders hit the edge of the alcove, then circled her with one arm as he reached over her head to collect his broom. "Ready?" he asked her.

Hermione wrapped both arms around his waist, clutching his arse, and rested her forehead on his chest. She nodded.

They Apparated with a crack, landing on the pitch in a swirl of black smoke. Draco held her until the aching sparks faded, then released her. Hermione shivered once she was away from his warmth. She hadn't thought about how cool the outdoor air would be on her bare legs. Or, she realized as she looked at Draco, how cool it would be on his bare chest. 

Draco flashed her a grin, his broom slung over his shoulders. He stretched his arms along the length of it, slowly tipping from side to side to limber up his spine. "Yes, it's even colder up in the sky," he said. "But don't worry, we'll be fine. Broom designers include temperature charms, otherwise we'd be falling out of the air frozen half the time."

He dropped his broom to hover between them, straddled it, and patted the shaft. Hermione stepped close, lifting her brows as she contemplated how to climb on the broom. Laughing, Draco picked her up and put her side-saddle on it. "Comfortable?"

The long hem of his jersey kept her off the bare wood, and she could tell there were multiple cushioning charms on the broom. She nodded, then shook her head. If they were going to do this, they would do it how she'd imagined. Gingerly, she swung one leg over the broom and sat astride.

Draco made a soft, inarticulate sound. He hauled her back, tucking her between his thighs and pressing her to his chest. The broom lurched up, almost stuttering as it rose, but Draco held her firm and secure. 

As they went higher, Draco quietly gave her directions on where to move her feet and how to hold the broom, making sure they were both positioned well despite the inherent awkwardness of double-flying. Hermione suspected he wouldn't take her as fast or as high as he would go in a match, just to ensure she was safe, but she found herself hoping he would. She wanted to know the exhilaration of flying like that.

Then one of Draco's hands slipped under the hem of the jersey to rest on her naked thigh and her heart pounded with a different kind of exhilaration. She automatically tipped back, rocking her hips. "Have you ever—" 

She couldn't finish the question, breath catching as he spread his free hand across her stomach. He bent his head to her shoulder, mouthing kisses up her neck. "Yes," he answered. His fingers moved higher on her thigh. "If you mean, have I ever done this. That's as far as I'll go on a broom." 

Draco nipped the curve of her ear. "I have you," he murmured to her. "Put your legs over mine and lean back. I won't let you fall."

With her pulse drumming so hard that it made her head throb, Hermione let go of the broom. She lifted her knees and spread them wide, hooking them over Draco's strong thighs. He kept one arm around her, pinning her securely to his torso, and slipped his hand between her legs.

They rose higher, circling the inner rim of the arena, as Draco slowly stroked her. Hermione closed her eyes, listening to the wind and to Draco's deep, rolling voice. He talked to her between kisses to her neck, praised her with every gentle circle of his fingers on her clit. When she rocked her head against his chest, and begged him to touch her deeper, he slid the tip of one finger inside her.

Hermione dug her nails into his thighs and groaned. Draco teased her for a few moments, then withdrew, cupping her in his fingers. "Bad angle," he muttered in response to her dismayed whimper. "Don't want to risk it."

She opened her eyes, looking up at the underside of Draco's jaw, watching his throat move as he swallowed. Rocking her hips back, she rubbed against his cock, the laces of his breeches adding to the friction. Draco grunted and ducked to bite the side of her neck.

Hermione twisted enough to catch his mouth, quick pecks of kisses as she pulled her legs off his to clutch the broom. "Down," she said, pointing at the arena seats. "Take us down, Draco."

"Thought you wanted to fly."

She wriggled her hand between them, groping for his cock, and gave it a squeeze. "Get me down there and _fuck me_ , Malfoy."

She felt his thighs tense, the broom responding to his movements, and he held her tighter. One hand on the broom shaft, feet locked to the pegs, he twisted, spinning them upside down. Hermione shrieked as Draco dove for the stands. 

He braked to a halt at the top of the arena, outside a glass-fronted room, a private viewing area for celebrities and dignitaries. They dropped to the stands and Draco hauled Hermione off the broom, shouldering open the door. Hermione barely noticed. She was wrapped around Draco's torso, ankles locked behind his back, hands locked behind his neck, kissing him for all she was worth. 

They stumbled into the room. One-handed, Draco ripped a large banner off the wall and flung it over the wide, sticky top of a bar. He set Hermione down and pushed her back, shoving the jersey up her ribs. 

Hermione dropped her knees wide open as Draco grabbed her hips. He bent over her and she shoved her fingers into his hair, guiding him down to her cunt. His tongue slipped inside her. Hermione held her legs open as far as she could, the tendons in her thighs straining.

Draco normally took his time with this, giving her slow, intense attention. Now, he was insistent and swift, every move of his lips and tongue on her body a fierce demand for more. His hands were tight on her hips, digging in until she knew she'd have purple bruises in the shapes of his fingers. He dragged his tongue through her folds, sucked hard on her clit, licked her until she was dripping and open and begging for him.

He reared up, swearing under his breath, and tore open the laces of his breeches. He didn't bother to shove them down, just pushed them low enough to free his cock. Propped on her elbows, Hermione watched him stroke himself. In seconds, he was fully hard and he grabbed her ankles to haul her to the end of the bar. 

Hermione clawed at his arms when he pushed deep into her. He didn't hesitate, didn't hold back. The stretch of her cunt was almost agonizing, but the solid heat of him inside her swept the brief pain away. Draco held her in place, her entire body rocking each time he drove in, his eyes locked between them to watch as he moved.

She surrendered to him, closing her eyes and giving in to the feel of his large hands on her hips, his thick cock filling her. Head back, she listened to his heaving, panting breaths, to the fast and slick noises of his thrusts. 

"Hermione," he said, his voice nearly an animal growl. "Look at me."

Lifting her head, she met his eyes. His forehead and cheeks were damp with sweat, his neck and chest turning red from effort. Hermione shifted her arms, elbows bearing her weight, and put her hands over his on her hips. She moaned with him, crooned to him, giving him the encouragement and praises he usually gave her. "More," she told him, lifting her hips to him.

Draco slammed into her. He snatched one hand free and caught the back of her head, her hair wrapped tight around his fist. He picked up speed, fucking her hard, his eyes never leaving hers. "In me," she said, watching his face tighten, knowing how close he was from the way his expression shifted. "You want it. _We_ want it." She stared into his eyes and squeezed tight around his cock. "Come in me."

Draco nodded wildly, his eyes black with need. His strokes shortened and quickened until a shudder ran through him. He came with a shout that rattled the glass windows of the enclosure. His head slowly fell back, his throat distending as he groaned. 

Hermione watched him, memorizing the way his scars gleamed as he fought for breath, the way his abs tensed and fluttered with each slowing throb of his cock inside her. When he released her hair and pulled out of her, she felt the warmth of his come sliding down her arse. 

She sat up gingerly, only then realizing that they had both left their wands secured in the locker room. She bit her lip, then took a handful of the banner she was sitting on to carefully pat herself dry. Leaning forward, she used the edge of the fabric to wipe Draco clean.

"We can't leave this here," she said with a soft laugh, letting the banner drop to put her arms around his neck. "Bin it or burn it?"

Draco gave a weak chuckle as he retied the laces on his breeches. "I didn't—" He cleared his throat and looked away from her. "Hermione, I need to—that was rougher than I intended and—are. Are you—"

"It hurt a little," she admitted. She brushed his damp fringe away from his forehead when he grimaced. "And I don't care. It was amazing. I don't think I could do it like that every time. But, Draco." She waited until he met her eyes before smiling at him. "But I will definitely want you to fuck me like that again."

His eyes flashed and he kissed her, deep enough that she thought she could lose herself in the heat of his mouth. "Later," he mumbled as he lifted his head. He helped her off the bar and stuffed the ruined banner into the depths of a rubbish bin. "Hit the showers, grab our things."

"Shower," she said impishly, grinning up at him. "Singular. I'm very tiny, Draco, we can both fit in one."

He lifted a brow, then made that deep, throaty sound. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her out the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Artwork by mignonettes here: https://www.instagram.com/p/CKReefnghDb/ - NSFW!  
> Artwork by jaxxinabox here: https://www.instagram.com/p/CLHSw_Ogx3K/
> 
> Please give them hearts and joy for their work!


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